Nightmare
by ShelbyGT1987
Summary: 3 years ago, Bella was forced to watch her mother killed by an obsessed predator. Now she's moved on with her amazing boyfriend, but her nightmares return. Do they mean she's paranoid, or is her stalker back? Full summary inside Canon Pairs AH AU Cdeaths
1. Broken

_Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer and Prom Night belongs to Sony Pictures_

**This story was heavily inspired by the movie _Prom Night_, as you can see in the disclaimer, but it won't follow the movie word-for-word or even scene-by-scene. There will be many parallels between the movie and this story (the plotline, basically) but nothing much else.**

**Pre-Warning: Character deaths, characters are OOC a little bit at times, this is all human, and it might be considered alternate universe.**

**All the characters will have their human last names except Edward, because I don't know about you, but I'm too used to him being 'Edward Cullen' to not. :) Carlisle and Esme will be his biological parents in this story.**

**So, full summary:**

**_Three years ago, Bella Swan watched in horror as an obsessed predator murdered her family. She moves into her aunt and uncle's house, and finally starts to move on with her life and let go of her past. She meets a boy she falls head-over-heels for, she makes new friends and keeps old ones closer—she learns to take nothing for granted. But soon, she's plagued by the nightmares again. The ones she'd thought she'd finally gotten past. Can they mean she's only being a little paranoid in this transitory period of her life? Or do they mean this psychotic stalker has returned for her?_**

**NOTE:** Some of these teachers mentioned (Mrs. Vanderwerf, the security guards...) they're all real in OLHS. But they were never involved in anything like this, to the extent of my knowledge. It's all FICTIONAL.

* * *

_The broken clock is a comfort; it helps me sleep tonight  
Maybe it can start tomorrow from stealing all my time  
And I am here still waiting, though I still have my doubts  
I am "damaged" at best, like you've already figured out_

_I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing  
With a broken heart that's still beating  
In the pain, there is healing  
In your name, I find meaning  
So I'm holding on, I'm holding on, I'm holding on  
I'm barely holding on to you_

_The broken locks were a warning, you got inside my head  
I tried my best to be guarded, and I'm an open book instead  
And I still see your reflection inside of my eyes  
That are looking for purpose, they're still looking for life_

_I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing  
With a broken heart that's still beating  
In the pain (In the pain) is there healing?  
In your name (In your name) I find meaning  
So I'm holding on (I'm still holding)  
I'm holding on (I'm still holding) I'm holding on (I'm still holding)  
I'm barely holding on to you_

_I'm hanging on another day just to see what you'll throw my way  
And I'm hanging on to the words you say—You said that I will be ok_

_Broken lights on the freeway left me here alone  
I may have lost my way now; I haven't forgotten my way home_

___I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing  
With a broken heart that's still beating  
In the pain (In the pain) there is healing  
In your name (In your name) I find meaning  
So I'm holding on (I'm still holding)  
I'm holding on (I'm still holding) I'm holding on (I'm still holding)  
I'm barely holding on to you  
I'm holding on (I'm still holding)  
I'm holding on (I'm still holding) I'm holding on (I'm still holding)  
I'm barely holding on to you_

"Broken," Lifehouse

* * *

1. Broken

**Bella's POV**

I groaned, throwing my covers over my head as the nasal beeping of my alarm reverberated throughout my room. If I didn't get up in the next two minutes, my mother would be shouting at me to turn it off before I woke up my brother... I waited, just to prove myself right.

"Bella!" I heard her familiar voice hiss through the door as her nails rapped against the wood. "Turn that thing off! You'll wake up your brother unnecessarily!"

God, why were the middle schoolers like my little brother, Eric, the lucky ones? Elementary school kids had to be in school by seven-thirty, and high-schoolers by seven. But middle schoolers? Nine o'clock! What kind of world is this, where spoiled little pre-teens get even more special treatment? What idiot said in a study that teenagers functioned better early in the morning? I wanted to die.

It was the first day of school, and it was _my_ first day of high school. I was about to turn fifteen years old, and I was officially a ninth grader. Of course, my friends and I all acted like it didn't matter. "Back to the bottom of the totem pole," as my dad liked to call it. But it still was a _huge_ deal. Just four more years, and I could go to senior prom, and then college, then get my own place...

I sighed, hearing my mother's voice return to me.

"Are you getting up yet, Bella? You're going to miss your bus, and I can't drive you this morning."

She'd probably forgotten to fill up her gas tank again. I rolled my eyes indulgently at my scatter-brained mother, rolling and toppling most ungracefully onto the floor, bringing a pillow and my covers down with me.

"I'm up," I called back irritatedly. "Technically," I muttered as an afterthought.

"Hurry, hon, I've got pancakes waiting downstairs."

Grumbling to myself about how early it was—five-thirty in the morning, who woke up then on free will?—I threw my blanket messily onto my bed and walked over to my computer desk, where I'd already laid out my day's outfit. I was so grateful I'd done that last night. I wouldn't have had the brain power to do it now, and probably would have realized only after I got to school that I'd been wearing a hot-pink bra with some booty short pajama bottoms all day. Great first impression that would've been.

Instead, I happily put on one of my newer outfits my best friend, Alice, had bought me on our shopping expedition yesterday. I usually hated shopping trips, but yesterday's had been necessary and... though I would never, _ever_ admit it to her... a little bit fun. I knew that my new outfits would probably set me up with a reputation like Alice had with newer kids, that I only wore brand-name things, but I didn't care. My clothes were cute, I loved them, and I knew I looked as good as I could in them.

Unfortunately, though, despite being fifteen, I didn't have much of a figure yet. I had boobs, yeah, but they were Bs, when all the other girls in my grade were stuffing their bras to look like Cs and Ds. Losers. I had hips, too, but I was one of those narrow girls: tiny waist + tiny hips = barely any figure.

My t-shirt was one that I actually had picked out, a sort of sea-green one with a black checkered design on the front. Alice had made me promise to wear these shockingly little jean shorts with them, but I was actually rather grateful by the time I had them on, too. Septembers in Virginia Beach were something to be _feared_, heat-wise.

Our dress code had recently been altered to allow hats, so long as they were searched before we entered the building. It was like they all thought we were storing drugs in them or something! My hat was black and white checked, and not really my style. I usually went more plaid than checkered. I wore it slightly to the left like Alice had told me about.

To top it all off, I wore my favorite grey run-down converse, the silver stay keychain my dad bought me for my last birthday, and I carried some white sunglasses just in case. Another thing to be afraid on in Virginia Beach in September, the sun. Good_ness_.

I supposed, altogether, I didn't look _that_ bad. Usually, I would call myself plain, but today... maybe 'pretty.' I definitely wasn't 'hot' or 'beautiful' or any of those other extremely flattering terms, but it was an improvement. I wouldn't look like an imp or something going to school the first day, at least.

I grabbed a plaid purse that might have matched and darted down the stairs. I was already running late. As much as I hated it, it seemed I would have to start waking up at five in the morning. Shoot me, please.

"Morning," I said briefly, sitting down at the kitchen table and scarfing down my pancakes as fast as I could. I had _no_ idea what time to expect my bus. One kid had told me ten to seven, another had told me twenty to seven, and one said quarter to seven. Which one was it?

"Someone's in a hurry," Mom said, smiling slightly as she leaned against the counter. "You look so cute."

"Thanks."

"Don't take that to mean I want you to keep dressing like this, though," she said, and I knew she was joking because her eyes were laughing while her face was serious. She was a horrible actress and liar like me. "Before I know it, you'll be waving pompoms around the house and bringing home all kinds of strange boys."

I rolled my eyes. "Because I've done that _so_ often before."

"I know," she sighed, looking at me a little proudly. I blushed. I hated it when people tried to compliment me, because it made me feel like I was being praised beyond what I deserved. "You've got a good, level head on those shoulders. You're so much more grounded than I was at your age. I doubt I even have to give you the drugs-and-alcohol speech."

"Please don't. I've heard a million times or more at school. We all take Family Life, remember. Every year from fifth grade to tenth. It's mandatory, unfortunately."

She laughed and leaned over, gently tugging on a strand of my hair. "I'm glad you're learning these things."

I threw my fork down with a little too much force, when I glanced up at the stove and saw the time on the top of it saying '6:22.'

"Gotta go!" I said, jumping up and grabbing my purse. I kissed her cheek hastily as I walked past. "Love ya! I'll start making breakfast again tomorrow, when I get back on track with this weird sleeping thing!"

The last thing I heard was her laughing as I ran out the door. My bus stop was way far away from my house. I had to walk all the way to the end of my cul-de-sac, take a left and walk for another block, take another left and walk for about five blocks, take a right, and walk another block.

By the time I reached the spot where all the other kids were already loitering about, I was practically panting. The sun was so damn hot already, and it wasn't even seven in the morning yet! Today was going to be a scorcher, that was for sure.

Several buses turned left out of a street to our right, but passed right by us. I started tapping my foot impatiently, watching the time on my cell phone go from '6:36,' to '6:51.' We were going to be late, and it wasn't even my fault for once.

Finally, a boy near me pointed to a bus that had paused at the street beside us.

"That one's ours," he informed me politely. "Bus 387."

"Thanks." I smiled at him appreciatively, and he stepped forward, flashing me a return smile.

"I'm Jack," he said pleasantly. "Jack Holloway. And you are...?"

"Bella Swan," I said. I stared after the bus that he'd called ours, which was now rounding a bend and far out of sight. "If that's our bus, why did it pass us?"

"Because we're on the right side of the street," he said informatively. "It's illegal for her to pick us up from the other side, so we're the last stop of the morning, and the first stop of the afternoon."

"Is... _she_ always this late?"

He bit his lip like he was contemplating lying to me, but then he laughed and nodded. "Yeah, she's horrible about the time. Some days she'll come at, like, six-thirty before anyone ever gets here, and some days she won't come until seven fifteen. It's pretty bad."

"Wonderful."

The bus ride to the school wasn't that bad after that, because I at least knew one person on it. Of course, it turned out this Jack guy was quite the chatterbox, and I was almost getting annoyed with him by the time we'd parked in the bus parking lot. I was a little relieved to separate from him when I saw Alice waving at me from the main entrance to the school.

She practically tackled me when we reached other, wrapping her tiny arms around me in a stranglehold.

"Aren't you excited?" she squealed. "This is a big day. First impressions are everything!" She stared at me a little more critically. "Honey, why didn't you put on more makeup?"

"What do you mean, more?" I laughed. "I didn't put on any. When do I ever?"

"True. Well, you're lucky you have such thick, black lashes naturally. I thought you were wearing mascara."

"Nope." I grinned though, happy at her disguised compliment. She knew me too well.

She linked her arm through mine as we walked back to the entrance, and she introduced me to some new people, all of whom's names I forgot as soon as I heard them.

"It's just sad that we only have, like, two classes together," she said, a little irritated.

I rolled my eyes. "Like you'll have any trouble making new friends."

She scowled at me. "I don't want _new_ friends, I want my _best_ friend."

"Aw, you're so sweet."

"I know. They should name some candy after me."

I scoffed, chuckling, and gently shoved her shoulder. She laughed, and her friends around us did, too. I was feeling a little uncomfortable, like I was being watched, but I brushed the feeling aside. There were like a thousand kids in this entrance way. Of course at least one of them would be looking in this direction, but that didn't have to mean _me_ in particular.

My schedule said that Alice and I only had Biology, 3A lunch and studyblock (one class), and Advanced Orchestra together. We'd laughed and debated over that last one tremendously. It was true that I was already signed up for the class. I'd been involved in orchestra since I was in fifth grade and learned to play the viola, but Alice just wanted to spend more time with me and Mr. Matthews, the orchestra teacher, was the laziest, most lax teacher in the entire school. He let us play when we wanted and never challenged us, let us text in class, talk on our cell phones in class, listen to iPods, play cards... Pretty much anything we wanted. He still took the select few students aside that actually wanted to play that day, and practiced the orchestra music, but I was rarely a part of that group.

Once Alice heard that she didn't even really have to know how to play an instrument to join, she volunteered herself for Mr. Matthews on the basis that she could play the piano like nobody's business, but she couldn't play any orchestral instruments. He let her into Advanced because she promised to switch her talents to the cello during some time of the year. Like that would happen. We all knew it wouldn't, and we knew he didn't care.

That meant that A days were the only times Alice and I would see each other in class, but it also meant that from second block all the way to the end of the day we'd be together. She should've been psyched, not disappointed.

My first block class, World History One, went by without incident. We spent the entire class organizing ourselves into alphabetical seating arrangements for the teacher's benefit, then tossing a hackey-sack around the room and asking questions about each other... The usual boring first-day-of-school stuff.

Biology, however, was... odd.

Alice and I met up at my locker, which luckily happened to be right next to my second block classroom, and walked into the room, sitting at the black-topped desk in the middle column, back row. We each took out a few sheets of paper and sat down to wait.

Finally, the rest of the class filled up, and the teacher walked in from his separate room used for storage. He was a weird looking guy. Tall, but not giant, with blonde hair to his chin. He reminded me of the cool music teacher that Hilary Duff befriends in _Raise Your Voice_. He had large, blue-green eyes that seemed to expand if you stared at them long enough, which it seemed all students tried to avoid. He was dressed normally, white button up in some khaki slacks like the rest of the staff, but there was something creepy about him. He looked at me a little too often.

I shook my head. I was imagining things just because the guy was a weirdo.

"All right, class," he said briskly, when I broke away from his glance again. "Put away your paper. There's no need for that today; we're going to have some fun."

Alice glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, her eyebrow arched in skepticism. Biology, _fun_?

"I suppose this will go more under Chemistry than Biology, but it's a good starting point to learn about cells and their reactions to each other," the teacher went on.

He hadn't even told us his name. I had to glance at the white board behind him where, "Mr. Reed," was written in large red letters. It looked a little incriminating. I pushed those thoughts away quickly. What was wrong with me?

"On each of your desks, you and your partner will find a petri dish, a small cup of milk, a small cup of the 'mystery substance,' three small bottles of food-coloring, an eyedropper, and a toothpick."

I raised my hand, realizing Alice and I had none of those things. She copied me, which drew the teacher's attention to us quicker.

"Yes, ladies?"

"We don't have any of those things here," I said.

"Oh, I must have skipped that desk accidentally," he said, not sounding sorry or surprised. "Come up here and get what you need from my desk."

I stood up, blushing and careful to avoid tripping over the legs of either my chair or the thick table, and Alice stood with me. The teacher's gaze fastened on her.

"You don't have to come," he said simply. "I think these things are small enough for your friend to carry by herself. Right, Miss...?"

"Bella Swan."

"Well, Bella Swan, the supplies are in the drawers in the back of my desk."

He looked away again, back to the rest of the class, disinterested. He went on to explain that we were to follow the directions on the page he was about to pass out to the tee, and if we did not, he would know by our results. He never glanced at me again, as I gathered up all the things that he'd told us about.

What was his _deal_? I couldn't decide if he'd instantly hated me or liked me.

When I finally made it painstakingly slow back to our desk, Alice and I got write to work. I set out the petri dish, which she filled with a quarter of an inch of milk. Following the first line of directions, I used the eyedropper to put one drop of each food color far apart from each other in the milk. Alice, reading the directions aloud as she moved, picked up the toothpick and pushed it into the opening of the 'mystery substance' bottle.

Gently making sure not to let it drip, I took it from her and touched the tip of the wet toothpick into the center of the three colorful dots in the petri dish of milk, and all of a sudden the colors sprang together, making a pretty tie-dye of red, green, blue and purple.

At the bottom of our instructions paper, there was a question: '_Based on the results of your experiment, what is the mystery substance?_'

"How should we know?" Alice hissed angrily. "Based on _what_ results? It only meshed together."

"It's got to be something acidic to make milk react that way with the colorings," I mused. "Milk's basic."

"Very good, Bella."

I jumped slightly, as did Alice next to me. I hadn't realized the teacher had been standing slightly behind me listening.

"Uh, th-thank you, Mr. Reed," I stammered nervously. Was it me, or was he standing _way_ to close to me?

"So what are your theories?" Mr. Reed prodded, raising his eyebrows curiously at our petri dish before glancing back at me.

Alice decided to save me, thank God, when she saw how nervous I was getting.

"Something with hydrochloric acid in it," she surmised, though she phrased it as a question.

"Yeah, maybe like dish detergent or some other cleaner," I added, looking at her now. I was so glad I had her as a friend. She never made me feel way to smart or too dumb or too plain about anything. We were just Alice and Bella. Unfortunately, 'just Mr. Reed' was still hanging about.

"Very, very good, ladies," he said, smiling. "I'm impressed. It's dish soap. 'Joy,' to be specific."

He picked up our dish and turned to the class, demonstrating how perfect it was and how clever we were to make our assumption so spot-on. I blushed furiously, hating the attention, but Alice ate it up, smiling at the rest of the class cheerfully.

She lost the happy attitude, though, by the time we were walking down the hall to lunch.

"Did you see he was standing, like, two inches from your face?" she hissed nervously.

I laughed, grateful I wasn't the only one who'd noticed. "Maybe he's just weird like that..."

"No, he didn't act that way around anybody else," she mused calmly. "Just you. Maybe he thought _you_ were weird and he had to keep an eye on you."

"Jerk."

She laughed as we took our seats in the buzzing, crowded, enormous cafeteria.

"Actually, I think he _likes_ you."

I glared at her. "He does not. That'd be so gross. He's like, eighty years old or something."

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Au contraire, mi amor, he's forty at most."

"Alice, that was three different languages in one sentence."

"I know. I'm just that good."

I shook my head, laughing. I had the weirdest best friend.

**%#! %#! %#!**

The months passed by without big incidents. I turned fifteen in September. In October Alice turned fifteen, while Eric, my kid brother, turned twelve. Alice and I had our traditional Holloween trick-or-treat fest, but Alice was slowly starting to become more attached to the idea of throwing a party on Holloween instead of collecting candy.

"We're too old to be out here gipping parents and little kids out of treats," she'd said, knowing that her best chance was to appeal to my morals. And damn her for a fiend, it worked. She actually got an agreement out of me that I would go with her to her 'next year bash.'

By the time Christmas break rolled around, I was freaking out thanks to my teachers. We still had two more days left before the holidays, and yet all of them were pressing on us the importance of the month of January, when we would have to take midterms in every class. Except lunch and study block, of course.

And yet... those in-between months weren't completely _normal_, either. I noticed that Mr. Reed spent more time with me in Bio than just about any other student of our class. He kept suggesting that I stay after for extra lessons so I could skip Chemistry altogether next year and have him for my teacher again in AP Biology. Of course I declined. He was too creepy.

One day, he even asked if I needed a ride home, which in our school is totally illegal for a teacher to offer a student. He would do strange little things, too, like hold my hand a little too long when he handed me something... or brush my hair back when I leaned over to sign something near him... or put his arms on the desk on either side of me and lean in to check my work... Just weird stuff that probably wouldn't have seemed too strange if done once or twice by other teachers. But _all the time_ by _him_?

He ate lunch in the cafeteria with Alice and I sometimes, and while he tried to make it look unplanned, like he lost track of time and accidentally spent the whole lunch block with us, I could see him glancing at his watch every now and then when he'd talk to us. Why would he lie about that? Did he have something important to say to us, or was he just a really creepy older guy with a young-girl crush?

Should I have talked to my parents about this?

The last day I would see him before Christmas break, a two-week vacation in my school, he was acting especially weird. He stayed towards the back of the classroom the entire time, pretending that Alice and I were completely our lessons incorrectly and offering his unnecessary assistance. It was getting to the point where I _knew_ he entered a room, just by the creepy-crawly feeling that went up my spine. It was totally unpleasant, like spiders darting over the lumps the bones made through my back.

When the bell finally rang, Alice and I were the first people done packing, as usual, and were almost out the door when Mr. Reed called, "Bella!"

While the other students filtered out, Alice shot me a nervous, sympathetic glance and gestured to the door, silently saying, _I'll be waiting just outside._

Mr. Reed intercepted the expression, and said, "That will be all, Miss Brandon, I have to talk to Miss Swan about something personal."

He shut the door right in her shocked face, an expression mirroring my own.

I cleared my throat. _Act normal. He probably doesn't even know what a freak he's been acting like._

"What did you need, Mr. Reed?"

"Bella, I thought we were past that part."

I blinked, staring at him. I felt my bottom lip start quivering a little, and backed away. _What part? What the hell is this psycho talking about?_

"Wh-What are you saying?" I stammered. He seemed nervous, but in a really strange way. That horrendous crawling feeling was back full force, and I wanted nothing more than to run out of this school forever, get my parents to arrest this psycho, and go on with my life.

Unfortunately, that left me with the small problem of actually getting out of the room.

"You can't tell me that you don't know," he said, and he was still nervous, yet so calm that I was trembling in fear. I think I'd have been a little less frightened if he'd been yelling at me and pointing at me with a gun. Not this... this struggling to make me understand crap. "Bella, I—"

At that exact moment, thank God, Mr. Martin, a muscle-y teacher from next door, pushed his roughly into the room, and his dark brown eyes bounced between Mr. Reed and me, quickly assessing the situation.

"Reed, what are you doing?" he demanded, nodding towards me. I didn't waste a minute.

I ran past Mr. Reed and tried for the door, but of course I tripped over nothing. I caught myself on the doorframe and pushed my way past Mr. Martin, my new savior, out into the hall where Alice grabbed me up and hugged me with wide eyes.

Mr. Reed tried to stop me when I ran outside, but Mr. Martin pushed him back into a wall. There were rumors about Mr. Martin's past that others had made up as jokes. Things like he was raped or molested as a little boy, and that was why he was so built and rough now, to prove that he was no less of a man. Now, seeing the way he was reacting to Mr. Reed calling me aside that way, I started to think those stories were true...

"Alice, let's go," I whispered, tugging her hand. "I'm going to call my parents."

She nodded silently, reluctantly tearing her eyes away from the scene. As we walked away as fast as we dared, I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and dialed home. Of course, with all the security cameras in the halls, I had at least four guards on me in an instant, reprimanding me for using my cell phone during school hours.

I hung up when I realized my phone didn't have service where I was standing, and I felt angry, somewhat humiliated tears well up hot in my eyes.

"I'm going home!" I snapped at them, not caring that I was disrespecting people who could easily give me detentions for the rest of my life. "That teacher just tried to... to... I don't even know if he was going to rape me or tell me that he loved me, but I've had enough! I'm calling my parents, and I'm going home!"

Alice reasurringly tried to rub my back, but it did nothing. I was crying now, and I couldn't make myself stop. All but one of the security guards immediately walked past us, back to where Mr. Martin and Mr. Reed could be heard scuffling about and talking heatedly. I didn't want to hear or see anymore. I was done with that weirdo.

The remaining security guard gently pried my phone out of my hands, and wrapped a comforting arm over my shoulders.

"Come on, honey, let's get you downstairs," she said soothingly. "We'll call your parents for you. You'll have to tell everyone what happened, though, I'm afraid."

Alice scoffed, still sounding half afraid. "You mean what's _been_ happening?"

Halfway down the stairs, the woman paused and stared first at me, and then at Alice in blank shock.

"You mean, things like this have happened before?"

I shook my head quickly. "No, he's never... he's never really tried to insinuate we had a relationship or whatever he did today. Usually, it was just really weird things like leaning too close to me, or sitting with me at lunch..."

Her blue eyes narrowed in distateful anger, and she gave my shoulders a squeeze. "Well, we're going to take care of this, don't you worry, baby. This psycho will be put away before you even get back from Winter Vacation."

"I should hope so! That's two weeks from now!" Alice snapped. I smiled at her, partly reproving, partly grateful. Even shell-shocked, my best friend had my back through and through. Did I mention how much I loved her?

We'd grown up together almost all our lives, and while I'd always been the too-shy, too-pacifying one, she'd always been the look-innocent-but-kick-your-ass-if-you-hurt-my-friends one. I would forever be grateful for her presence today. She was the one who'd gotten Mr. Martin, after all.

We were taken downstairs to the guidance office, and pulled into Mrs. Vanderwerf's room. She wasn't my counselor, but that didn't matter. I didn't even know my counselor. They were assigned to students alphabetically, like everything else. But she was the only available counselor at the time, and I'd heard she was really nice, so I went with it.

She looked up from her computer in shock when we entered. I was sure I looked like Hell frozen over, but she didn't comment. Alice took the seat next to me, but the female guard stood and started talking rapidly to the guidance counselor, filling her in.

"Bella?" Mrs. Vanderwerf said. I reluctantly looked up at her. "Honey, I understand that you must be very scared and confused right now, but I'm going to have to ask you to tell me what's been going on."

I shrugged, feeling totally numb. I wasn't crying anymore. I didn't even know why, or care.

"Ever since I met him, he acted strange around me," I said tonelessly. Informatively. "He would spend more time with me than with the others, watch me more closely... He tried to suggest several times that I stay after school with him for educational purposes, but he always weirded me out too much for me to agree. He pretended to lose track of the time when he saw Alice and I in lunch, and would end up staying there the whole break, just talking and staring at me. Only occasionally, of course. He... He offered me a ride home one day, but I refused..."

"And today?" asked Mrs. Vanderwerf gently, scribbling down something quickly. She spoke to me while she wrote.

"Today... I don't even know what happened," I sighed, feeling very tired. "He called me aside when second block let out, and wouldn't let Alice stay in the room. He shut the door in her face. Then I asked him what he wanted, and I called him 'Mr. Reed,' like always. He told me that he thought we were 'past that part.' He said that I couldn't honestly tell him I didn't know what was going on, even though I was clueless except to the fact that he's a freak. He was going to say something else when Mr. Martin came in. I ran out."

"Do you know what he was going to say?"

"No. He just said, 'Bella, I—' and the door opened."

She nodded, tapping her pen to her chin pensively.

"Wh-Where is he now?" I asked tremulously.

She glanced up at me concernedly, swifting soothing, "He's being held in the main office right now. He won't come near you again. When your parents get here, we'll talk about pressing charges or not."

"Pressing charges?" I asked blankly.

She nodded, looking a little grim. "Bella, this is sexual harassment. It may not seem like that to you, because it was in a minor form, but it is. It can't be condoned."

A few minutes later, my hectic-looking parents barged through the door. My mother immediately scooped me up, hugging me tightly like she thought I might have died by now, while my father went straight to the guidance counselor, demanding to know where the 'sicko' was and why didn't this school have better security issues? Didn't they check their employees before hiring?

"I assure you, Mr. Swan, Mr. Reed passed every test with flying colors," Mrs. Vanderwerf said, still grim. "He had no previous record of any wrongdoings. This just appears to be a teacher-student crush carried much too far. Bordering on obsession, it sounds like to me."

"Bella never crushed on this freak!"

"I was referring to Mr. Reed."

It was decided that day that I would get a restraining order on Mr. Reed. If he ever came within 500 yards of me, he would be arrested and sentenced to up to five years, which could also waver depending on what he did before the police found out he broke the restraining order.

I tried to believe that it wouldn't get that bad. He would just back off, and leave me alone. The restraining order should have been hint enough. If that didn't say 'get the fuck away from me,' I didn't know what would.

**%#! %#! %#!**

_Three days after Christmas break started, Alice and her mom drove me home. I was supposed to be sleeping over at her house after the movie we'd just seen, but I'd changed my mind and decided to come home early._

_Alice's mom had been kinder than usual to me all night, and I knew it was because Alice had told her everything. I wasn't upset about it, but she was the only one I wanted Alice to tell. I didn't want anyone else giving me sympathy votes or something. Mr. Reed had been fired, and the school was under alert to watch for him, just in case. He was not allowed within 500 yards of me. That incident in the classroom would never repeat itself, and I just wanted to forget._

_When we pulled up outside my house, I jumped out, clutching my down jacket tighter around myself again the cold, crisp wind. I turned back to Alice's open window and smiled at the two of them._

_"Thank you for driving me home," I said._

_"Not a problem, honey," said Mrs. Brandon, while Alice just smiled at me. "I'm just sorry you couldn't spend the night. You deserve a few nights of fun after what you've been through."_

_My smile faltered a bit, but I spoke as politely as I could. "Mrs. Brandon, I'm sorry, but I really don't want to talk about that. I just want to forget."_

_Her smile turned pitying, sad. "Of course, hon. We'll see you later. Tell Eric I said to expect something fun in his Christmas present."_

_I laughed, waving as they drove away. I ran up to the front door, the frozen grass crunching under my feet. The door was unlocked, but I assumed that was because Mom had forgotten I wasn't supposed to be coming home tonight. She usually locked it every night._

_Other than a football game I cared nothing about blaring on the television, the house was silent. I walked over to the hall closet and took off my coat, hanging it up as I shouted, "I'm home!"_

_Nobody answered. I shrugged it off, closing the door to the closet. I went back to the living room. The TV was still on, but there was no one there. No one on the couch or in Dad's favorite chair. Huh._

_I walked upstairs, listening for sounds of my family. I was starting to get a little weirded out, but I decided that they'd probably gone out for pizza without me or something. Then, I heard the TV blaring from Eric's room as well. Twerp. Who did he think he was, not answering me?_

_Shaking my head in annoyance, I opened my door and flicked on the light, stepping inside. I shrieked aloud, my foot sliding on the bat that I hadn't seen lying in the doorframe. I landed harshly on my butt, my head slapping against the dresser beside my door. Dammit, Eric! How many practical jokes can one kid play on his sister?_

_Furiously, I picked up the bat and stormed across the hall, back to his room. I threw open his door and found him lying on his stomach on his bed, his head where his feet should be because he was watching the TV that sat on the dresser against the far wall. He looked like he was sleeping, but I was too angry to care._

_I shoved the bat's tip into his side, jabbing him roughly._

_"Hey," I said angrily, "that wasn't funny! I almost killed myself just now, you jerk."_

_There wasn't any response. Not even an indignant, "Mom, Bella hit me with a baseball bat!" that I knew he'd try. He was always trying to get me into trouble._

_I started to get nervous._

_"Eric, stop pretending, it's not funny."_

_I pushed the bat into his side harder, turning him over onto his back. His eyes stayed firmly closed, and for a second I considered lightly hitting him with the bat, just to get him to stop fake sleeping. Then my eyes caught the red wetness on his chest, and I covered my mouth before I could scream._

_There were puncture holes in his stomach. Tears flooded my eyes, and the bat fell from my shaking hand. My little brother had been stabbed repeatedly in his gut. He was dead._

_I heard a scream from down the hall, and immediately jumped under Eric's bed. The door to his room flew open, slamming shut behind the person. It was Mom._

_Before I could tell her where I was, ask her what was going on, or even open my mouth, the door was flung open again, and she was shoved hard down onto the ground right in front of me at the foot of the bed. I cried into my hands, struggling not to make a sound. I wanted to help her, I wanted to scream, I wanted to do nothing..._

_Mom herself was sobbing and screaming, begging for the man kneeling over her to stop._

_"Where is she?" the man kept yelling. I gasped, clamping my mouth shut so hard my fingers started going numb. Mr. Reed._

_"She's not here!"_

_"Where is she? She belongs to me, you stupid bitch! Now where is she?"_

_Mom, sobbing, screamed, "She's at a sleep over!"_

_In frustration, it seemed, more than anything, Mr. Reed pinned down my mother's hands and stabbed her in the stomach, too, over and over again until her screams subsided. Her head rolled to the left to stop at an unnatural angle, her wide eyes staring right at me. I bit my hand, tears streaming down my cheeks, trying to keep myself silent._

_Mr. Reed got up, and just stood there. I prayed and prayed that he hadn't heard me, but he wasn't moving. That was when I realized there was a police siren growing in the distance. Mr. Reed seemed to hear it, too, and ran out of the room faster than I'd ever seen him move before._

_When I heard a window downstairs break and made sure the crunching of the frozen grass outside had receded, I let out one choked up sob, and ran outside. When I reached the front yard, I raised my arms, waving them wildly over my head, shouting frantically for the police car to stop._

_Lights blazing, sirens blaring, the car sped right past me. I lowered my arms uncertainly, staring after it in shock as it turned a corner and sped away. I would call more police, then._

_"I did it for _us_."_

_I whirled around, and was face-to-face with Mr. Reed, who held an enormous hunting knife._

I screamed, darting upright in bed. Breathing heavily, I looked frantically around my surroundings. I wasn't back there anymore. I was in Aunt Chris' house. I was in my new bedroom. The window was firmly shut, and by the sounds of my Uncle Mark begging me to let him in, my door was still locked.

I was safe. It was a nightmare.

"Bella? Bella, will you please let us in? What is it?"

I reluctantly got out of my warm bed and walked over the cold hardwood floors to my new bedroom door, unlocking it to reveal my very ragged-looking aunt and uncle.

"Honey, what is it?" Aunt Chris asked, breathing a little shaky.

"A nightmare," I mumbled, humiliated that I'd woken up them and scared them so much.

They stared at me for a second, silent, and I felt like an even bigger idiot. Then Aunt Chris pulled me into a gentle hug, telling me without words that nobody was judging me, that my reactions were normal, that everything that had happened wasn't my fault. All the things I'd already heard _with_ words from my new therapist, my uncle, my aunt, Alice, my guindance counselor, the police...

But it _was_ my fault. If I hadn't... If I had told Mr. Reed to back off right from the beginning, maybe his crush on me wouldn't have escalated into such a predatory obsession. He wouldn't have murdered my entire family. It _was_ my fault they were dead.

I broke down, sobbing. It was my first break-down since the incident. I hadn't cried since the night of, and even that stopped after I ran inside to phone the police.

"That's it, sweetheart," Aunt Chris said soothingly, rubbing circles on my back while Uncle Mark stroked my tangled, sweat-matted hair. "Let it out."

It had been two weeks since my ex-teacher had slaughtered my family. My mother's sister and my godmother, Christina Marie Roberts, whom I was partially named for had adopted me afterwards. Her husband, my Uncle Mark, was so kind about the whole thing. Even though they were already frazzled because Aunt Chris was pregnant with their first child, they took me in and couldn't have loved me more if I was theirs.

But I _wasn't_ theirs. I had my own family, and I had as good as killed them.

Their killer, my ex-teacher Mr. Reed, had been taken to trial by my new lawyer, who agreed to work for me for free because of the press coverage, I'm sure. The news over the whole thing was enormous. I couldn't go anywhere without being recognized, which was partly why Aunt Chris and Uncle Mark took me away from Virginia Beach, up to Forks, Washington. Alice and her mother moved with us, partly because Alice's mother was going through a divorce and wanted to be away from her soon-to-be ex-husband, and partly because Alice and I couldn't bear to be separated. She now lived down the street from me.

Mr. Reed was found in his home later that night, after I'd called the police. He was arrested, but I had to identify him. I begged and pleaded my aunt and uncle not to make me face him, but I had to or they would have no basis to keep him in custody.

So I forced myself to go down to the police station. Mr. Reed was talking to the detective in a private room, practically on lockdown. I was taken down a remote hallway with my aunt and uncle and a few policemen, who gestured to a window that looked into Mr. Reed's room.

Taking a shaking breath, I nodded hurriedly.

"That's him," I said to the policemen around me. "That's him."

"All right, thank you."

But we didn't leave. The detective was asking Mr. Reed why he did what he did, and it seemed everyone around me was eerily fascinated by what he might say. How could anyone possibly justify murdering three innocent people?

"Because we belong together. I'm all she has. Nothing will stop me being with her."

I shivered, feeling my eyes burn with unshed tears. "Can we go?" I begged in a whisper. I didn't want to hear anymore. I didn't want to see anymore.

But nobody moved. At that moment, Mr. Reed's eyes zeroed right on me. I gasped, my breath catching in the back of my throat. I took an involuntary step backwards. The detective angrily told Mr. Reed not to look at me, to look at him and answer the question.

"I love her!" Mr. Reed shouted at him, before turning his earnest glare on me. "I love you! Nothing can keep us apart!"

I shook my head, clutching my arms around my chest. "I want to leave _now_!"

My hired detective told me that with my identification and all the prints and DNA found of him at the crime scene, he would be locked away for sure. However, Mr. Reed's lawyer craftily made Mr. Reed plead insanity. He was sentenced to a measly ten years in a mental instution for lawbreakers, across the country from me. He was under the tightest security. I was assured daily that he would never bother me again.

The next day at my weekly therapy session, my therapist, Anne, was kinder than usual to me.

"Bella, you know what you're doing to yourself," she admonished gently. "It's survivor's guilt. You're blaming yourself for some psycho's actions. None of this was your fault. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, sure. But it was _not your fault_ this insane man decided to kill your family."

I just nodded, looking down at my twisted hands as though they belonged to someone else. I knew that what I was experiencing was nothing more than survivor's guilt. But _knowing_ all the things in the world didn't stop you from _feeling_.

"Bella, how long as Christmas break been over?" she asked cautiously.

"About two weeks," I said.

She bit her lip, watching me warily. "Listen, honey. No one is making you go back, but your aunt and uncle and I feel that it would be the best thing for you if you would return to school. This new school will be a perfect opportunity for you to make new friends and forget the past. He can't hurt you here. He can't come near you ever again. And the sooner you get back in the real world and become an active participant in it once more, the sooner you'll realize that."

"What about the nightmares?" I asked in a whisper. "Will they stop?"

"I wish I could answer that, my dear," she said sorrowfully. "They are there because of the traumatic experience you sustained. There's no telling when you'll stop having them. Most likely when you return to your old ways of life and forget this whole thing ever happened to you."

I nodded, biting my lip as I stared at the coffee table in front of me, bearing my untouched cup of tea.

"All right," I sighed. "I'll... try. I can go back this Monday."

She beamed at me. "Perfect. That will give your guardians time to register you at Forks High School, and get you ready with clothes and everything."

I stood up to leave, wanting to end this session early. I held out my hand, barely getting out, "Thank you, Anne."

Instead of shaking my hand like normal, she pulled me into a tight hug. For a moment, I tensed up, but then I remembered she was there to help me, not hurt me. I relaxed, hugging her back.

"You are much stronger than you realize, Bella," she whispered fervently. "You'll get through this. You'll move on. You're too good to hang your life up on this freak."

I laughed at her unprofessional language, squeezed my arms around her a little, and then left.

**%#! %#! %#!**

It was the first day of school all over again. But at least there were two of us going through this one. Me and Alice, facing the world yet again. ...Or facing the school. Whatever.

Taking my hand and sqeezing it reassuringly, Alice walked next to me to our first class of the day. Unlike back in Virginia Beach, my aunt and uncle had specifically requested that Alice and I be in every single class together. When the school learned of my past, they agreed in a hearbeat. All of my teachers knew, for my own protection, but after persistent begging from me, they were all instructed to never let it slip to anyone else. I wanted to move on. I wanted to forget. Mr. Reed was a thing of my past.

That first day passed by fairly quickly, but in Biology Alice and I were finally separated. Not in different classes, of course, but by chairs. The two students sitting next to the only empty seats both refused to move for us, and the teacher didn't press the matter.

Shrugging it off, I went to sit next to the gorgeous but rude boy in the last row of the center column. It was ironic, almost. This was the exact position Alice and I had sit in back in Virginia Beach in our last Biology class.

The boy next to me had strange red-brown hair and piercing green eyes that lightened or darkened depending on the light. Or maybe his moods, I wouldn't know. He wore really nice clothes, so I could assume then and there that he was either really rich, really popular, or both. Most likely both.

The boy didn't talk to me, and I didn't talk to him. I was too busy trying to catch up. The teacher didn't give Alice and I many spare moments to try and ask the other students what they'd already done in class compared to us, but I could already tell they were a little behind. The exercises they were doing we'd done two weeks before Christmas break.

"Is this a recent lesson for you?" I whispered to the boy next to me, pointing to the work sheet.

"What do you mean?" he whispered back, staring at me confusedly.

"Cellular mitosis," I elaborated. "Are you just starting to study it in this class?"

"Yes."

I nodded to myself. They were behind.

"Class," said the teacher, a strange bald little man named Mr. Banner. "In honor of our two new students, I want to do a small repeat of the first day." Some of the students groaned, and he grinned ruefully. "Not an entire repeat. Just one little thing. Turn to your deskmate and introduce yourselves."

The boy, sighing slightly at the interruption of his work, turned to me and held out his hand, giving me a side-smile as he said, "Hello. I'm Edward Cullen."

"Bella Swan," I said, smiling as politely as I could as I shook his hand.

Since the teacher was absent-mindedly writing the next lesson on the board, giving us a few more minutes of conversation time, Edward said, "So what brings you to this rainy place?"

"Umm..." I deliberated. Did I want to tell them my real story? Did I want to just say my family died and I moved in with my aunt and uncle? Did I want to just say I was recently adopted and had to move?

The boy Edward took my silence as the hesitation it really was.

"I'm sorry," he said politely. "You don't have to answer that."

"It's just," I said quickly, not wanting to seem rude, "I was just put through a... a really traumatic experience. I wasn't sure if I wanted to share and let it go around the school or not. I don't mean to be rude, but I can't tell you. I want to move on and forget."

He nodded. "I understand."

Up at the front, the teacher clapped his hands loudly, turning our attention back on him. He was smiling slightly.

"Congratulations, you've just introduced yourself to your permanent lab partner."

Great.

Lunch turned out to be a bigger ordeal than I'd originally thought it would. I was sure that with our enormous school back home, this little cafeteria would be easy to hide in. But it was even harder than back home.

Alice, of course, had no problems waltzing right up to what I could already see was the 'popular' table, and, smiling, introduced us both.

"Hi!" she said cheerfully, causing them to smile back. It was a reflex reaction to her. Nobody could _not_ smile. "I'm Alice Brandon, and this is my best friend, Bella Swan." I smiled and waved. "We just moved here from Virginia Beach."

"Really?" one of the girls looks up with renewed interest. She started pointing out people at the table. "I'm Jessica Stanley, that's Mike Newton, Lauren Mallory, Tyler Crowley, Rosalie Hale, Jasper Hale, Emmett McCarty, and Edward Cullen."

All of them smiled and waved politely when she said their names.

"What's it like in Virginia Beach?" she asked eagerly.

"A lot hotter than here, that's for sure," I laughed, Alice joining in easily.

"And it doesn't rain so much," Alice added.

"How many people went to your old high school?" the girl pointed out as Lauren asked.

"Almost three thousand," I said, thinking.

They stared. Finally, the one pointed out as Tyler asked bluntly, "Then what brings you here?"

Completely taking me by surprise, Edward Cullen jumped right into the conversation and steered it away from my danger points with an easy, "Yeah, I'm sure the cafeteria food was better there than it is here." He held up a limp, soggy biscuit and wrinkled his nose in disgust. I shot him a grateful look, and he winked back. Maybe he wasn't the snob I'd thought he was originally...

The others immediately launched into horrifying 'true' stories about the most disgusting foods they'd ever found in a school cafeteria, while I just sort of zoned out. I was shocked at myself. I had actually begun to enjoy myself. How could I be having a good time when my family was dead?

And then, all over again, I realized what I was doing to myself. Would it ever end?

Later, at the end of the day, it was all but official that Alice and I had easily become accepted into Forks' 'popular clique.' I wouldn't have cared in my other home, in that other time, but now... I was pleased. I liked many of the kids that were thought of as rich snobs simply because their parents were wealthy. Emmett was hilarious, like a child trapped in a monster's body. Rosalie was pretty funny, too, and very smart. Jasper was cool, but I never really got to talk to him much because he seemed to want to spend every waking moment talking to Alice, which I would never stop teasing her for until we died. And Edward was... perfect. I really didn't want to sound too impressed or whatever, even to myself, but he was. He was rich, yes, and a little spoiled, but he was also kind, thoughtful, funny, brilliant...

I was grateful he was my Biology partner. Less work for me!

I laughed to myself as I thought that, and speak of the devil, Edward appeared at my side and asked, "What was that for?"

"What was what for?" I asked innocently.

He looked at me skeptically. "You've been Miss Gloom and Doom all day, and now you're laughing. I want to know why, so I can make sure you laugh again. Nobody should be that sad."

I was touched that he cared at all, but I still said, "I was laughing at you, actually."

He raised his eyebrows in shock, but then his eyes flashed wickedly and he teased, "Oh, yeah? Why?"

"Because you're the poor sap stuck next to me in Bio for the rest of the year," I said simply. "There are a lot of papers due before us, and guess who's going to be doing most of the work?"

I said the question part in a sing-song voice, which he didn't hesitate to mimic.

"We both are together," he said in that same irritating tone. "We'll be going to each others' houses to do them. Sorry to burst your bubble, girlie, but I don't let free loaders walk all over me."

I snapped my fingers in a good impersonation of Swiper from _Dora the Explorer_, and even said dejectedly, "Oh, _man_!"

He laughed, tilting his head at me. "You're a weird girl, Bella Swan, but I think that's why I like you."

For some reason, my brother's face popped into mind. If he'd have ever got wind of this conversation, he would have teased me something awful until the day I died. And it was my fault he would never be able to do that.

"I-I have to go," I said hastily, turning away before he could see me cry.

* * *

**This is only the beginning so it's boring, but please let me know if it's worth continuing. I really want some feedback here, peoples! Any reviews are better than none!**


	2. Funny the Way It Is

_Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer and Prom Night belongs to Sony Pictures_

**Just a reminder: as of right now, this story is taking place in 2005! Bella is a freshman in high school. Time will pass and we'll catch up to 2009.**

**All pictures on profile!**

* * *

_Funny the way it is, if you think about it  
Somebody's going hungry and someone else is eating out  
Funny the way it is, not right or wrong  
Somebody's heart is broken and it becomes your favorite song  
...Funny the way it is, if you think about it  
One kid walks ten miles to school, another's dropping out  
Funny the way it is, not right or wrong  
On a soldier's last breath his baby's being born_

"Funny the Way It Is," Dave Matthews Band

* * *

2. Funny The Way It Is

**Bella's POV**

Alice called me up after that first day, and we decided to meet up at the Starbucks in town. One of the shockingly few public "restaurant" types in the place.

Sitting at one of the little circular tables outside, my butt and legs threatening to go numb from the cold metal chair, me and Alice just sat there. She didn't say anything. I was starting to get annoyed.

"Did you want to talk, Ali, or what? It's _cold_."

"I know that," she said absently, fiddling with a piece of her short, choppy hair. She glanced at me seriously, biting down on her lower lip. Never a good sign. "Bella, I understand that what you've been through... it's not something you'll ever get over. Your parents and little brother were murdered." I flinched, glaring at the frozen table. "But, Bella, it _wasn't your fault._ I don't understand why you're putting yourself through this. You were starting to have fun today. I saw it. You were even coming farther out of your bubble than you used to at home. What happened? Why did you go back into 'Woe is Me' mode?"

"Because my family is dead," I snapped. "Because it's my fault they're dead. I might as well have handed Mr. Reed the knife."

A pale hand shot out of nowhere and slapped me straight across the face. I was too surprised to even register that I'd been smacked. The only thought running across my mind was the fact that I'd never seen Alice move that fast. I was suddenly a little frightened of her. My best friend moved like a cobra.

"Bella, I love you, but you can't talk like that. I can't hear it anymore. Do you have any idea what it's been like for all of us to watch you do this to yourself? For us to sit by, not even knowing what to say, while you refused to let yourself have any kind of pleasure in life? Honey, yes, your family is gone now. Nobody but you, me, and your aunt and uncle can know how badly that hurts. I loved them, too, Bella. But, really, _they're gone_. Making yourself suffer isn't going to bring them back."

"But it makes me feel better," I whispered, my lips cracking and going numb in the cold. "How can you ask me to just forget everything that happened and go back to the way things were? Nothing will _ever _be the same again. How could I possibly go out and have a good time, knowing that my little brother—who, by the way, I _never_ stopped picking on—can never grow up and do those things, too? Knowing that my parents will never get to see my graduate high school, or college, or see me get married, or meet my kids...?"

My voice trailed off and broke, and I shook my head, looking into my Starbucks cup, both gloved hands wrapped firmly around the base for warmth. I felt Alice's eyes on me, but I couldn't meet them. I knew what I'd see there. Pity, mostly, and sadness, love... and a bit of disappointment. Everyone had give me the same unreadable and yet totally predictable expression ever since I'd started going to therapy and not really healed at all. Like they'd expected me to waltz out of my first session happy as a clown and fully healed.

"Bella... I'm sorry."

I stood up, roughly pushing the chair back, the metal grating on the cement. "It's fine. I don't want to talk about this anymore. Let's go home, huh? I'm sure Aunt Chris has made some sort of treats. Her cravings are starting to kick into over-drive."

**%#! %#! %#!**

I fell into the pattern of my old life with shocking ease. Nobody understood how much like a betrayal it felt for me to enjoy myself in anything. My brother would never be able to go to high school. I'd picked on him so much... And I would never be able to tell him I was sorry.

The old pattern, of course, was void of several old things like much of a social life. I woke up in the mornings, went to school, came home, did my homework, maybe called Alice, and went to bed. I had the most boring life in the world, but it suited me for the time being. I didn't _want_ to go out and have fun with my friends.

My aunt and uncle, needless to say, were very upset by my actions. They tried to understand, and they did to an extent, but they never really got it. They'd never lost anyone that close to them. Aunt Chris and my mother had had a distant relationship by the time I was a teenager. They loved each other and were still friends and everything, but the calls and cards on the holidays were becoming more frequent than seeing each other in person as time went on. It made me wonder if my aunt felt as guilty as I did, knowing that she could never spend a day with her sister now.

That thought alone made me walk into their bedroom, where Aunt Chris was watching television with an absent, bored expression. She was like me: she hated doing something totally unproductive. I plopped down on the edge of the bed, and she sat up, looking at me curiously.

"Umm... can I talk to you?" I hated how nervous I sounded.

"Of course you can, sweetheart, what about?" she said, muting the TV. She angled her body to me, sitting patiently and expectantly.

I laughed awkwardly, running a hand through my hair. "This is so weird, I can't even believe I'm talking to you about this, but..."

My aunt's face went slightly pale. "Oh, my God," she sort of whispered and groaned at the same time. "You're not trying to instigate the sex talk, are you?"

I felt the heat go straight to my face and burst out laughing. As much as I hated it, the laughter felt... good.

"No!" I gasped, clearing my throat to end the chuckles. "Oh, God, no. Mom beat ya to that one a while back."

She sighed in relief. "Good. No offense, hon, but I'm really not ready for _that_ conversation with anyone."

I smiled, but all my amusement was gone. "Aunt Chris, do you... do you ever... feel... guilty?"

"Guilty?" She seemed surprised. "What about?"

"Mom." I shrugged. "My family. What happened to them."

"Oh, baby." She pulled me into a sympathetic, totally understanding hug that spoke volumes more than any words. "Of course I feel guilty. I always felt the worst for your brother. To have your life cut short so soon..." I flinched, inhaling sharply to stop the tears that were burning my eyes.

"I just... I miss them so much." A tear escaped my control, followed swiftly by another. I knew a lost cause when I saw one, and gave up, letting the sobs rip through me. It felt better than taking everything so stoically, letting the grief just sit in my heart like a heavy stone. "I feel like, if it weren't for me, they'd all still be here."

"Honey, you had nothing to do with their deaths," she whispered fervently, kissing my right temple. "An insane man fell into... something way more than love with you, and he came up with a sick ploy unconsciously. He thought that if he killed them, you would be alone in this world and accept him more readily." She laughed, trying to cheer me up. "Too bad that plan backfired, huh? He didn't count on the Awesome Aunt and Ultra Uncle to step in and save the day."

I snorted, rolling my eyes while she stroked my hair, rocking us forward and backward. "Really? Are we living in comic books now?"

She laughed, and then sighed. "Seriously, honey, I feel guilt all the time. Every day I wake up and ask myself why I couldn't have made more time to call my only sister. Or visit her. We used to have so much fun on the holidays, do you remember?"

I bit my lip, fighting a smile, but gave in. A huge grin spread across my face and I laughed, reminiscing. "Yeah. I remember this one Christmas where Dad dressed up as Santa Claus. I was about six years old. Eric was just a baby, three years old. Dad spent the whole morning parading around the living room, passing out presents and just hamming it up, until his fake beard caught on fire from one of the incense candles Mom used to bury the house under. He went shrieking through the whole house like a madman, and he never let Mom put any more candles in the living room after that..."

"Or the time your mother made a birthday cake for you one year, and accidentally put baking soda into it instead of sugar. She was crying harder than you were after that 'fun' party..."

We both laughed and fell silent, and my mind just skimmed over the happier times I'd spent with my family. I felt lighter than I had since the whole thing happened. I wanted to remember them happily, not dwell on everything I'd done wrong or not done at all. Who could live with all that guilt for long? It was exhausting.

I felt Aunt Chris shift behind me, hugging me more tightly against her. She kissed my hair, and when she spoke, her voice was muffled and little broken, like she was fighting tears herself.

"I know they would be so proud of you, honey," she said. "We want you to be sad for your family because you loved them and lost them, ok? But we don't want you to _linger_, and let life pass you by out of guilt."

I nodded slowly, and pulled away so I could meet her eyes. I took a deep breath, my voice shaking a little bit as I whispered, "I want to go to the cemetery. I want to visit their... graves."

She nodded in agreement, squeezing me tighter momentarily before releasing me altogether. "We'll go this weekend when you get out of school. It's a good half hour drive from here, and I don't want you to feel pressed for time when we do get there."

**%#! %#! %#!**

_Julia Renee Swan: 1971—2005. We can only be said to be alive when our hearts are conscious of our treasures. Let it be forever remembered she was always a diamond to us._

_Charles William Swan: 1970—2005. We laughed at him because he was different. He laughed at us because we were all the same. We will never laugh the same again._

_Eric Charles Swan: 1993—2005. Memories linger of our little boy, Heaven sent, who brightened our lives but for a brief fleeting moment._

It was amazing, really, how little justice the gravestones did for my family. I had thought that seeing them would make me cry with relief that they would be well-marked, or cry because I knew that someone cared enough to pay for their resting places. Just cry because I missed them, but realized moving on was ok.

But that didn't happen.

I stared at the graves feeling cold, empty. My eyes didn't even prick with tears.

Was I really such a horrible daughter and sister that I couldn't cry at their graves? I loved them. God only knew how much I loved them. And I missed them—I wanted them back more than I'd ever wanted anything in my entire life.

But I still felt nothing, staring at the very wide tombstone that the three shared. Well, I felt many things, but none of them strong enough to make my cry. I felt guilt for not showing more emotion, sadness, regret, and a small sense of relief in the back of my mind. It was a strange reaction to have looking at one's family's gravestone, but I did. I was relieved because I knew that now, at least, no matter what might happen to me, they would never suffer for it. If I got older to become some drug addict, or if, God forbid, Reed should ever get out of his asylum before he was allowed and 'cured,' they would never be in pain because of me.

They could never be hurt again. And I think that's what made me the calmest, looking at their graves. I would never forget them, I would never stop missing them, I would never stop feeling guilty over them... but I _could_ have a life again. They wouldn't have wanted me to live in the past, anyway, even Eric, with his selfish little annoying brother ways.

I inhaled deeply, my fingers lightly trailing over the words for my father. I almost smiled at how befitting they were.

"Are you all right, honey?" Aunt Chris asked concernedly, touching my right shoulder with fingers lighter than a butterfly kiss.

I stepped back, away from the stone, staring at the engravings, and nodded. "Surprisingly, yes. I think... I think seeing them here... seeing _this_, has made me realize that I don't have to be completely miserable to miss them. I'll always love them, but I don't have to make my own life hell because they're not here anymore. Besides, when I do finally die, whenever that may be, I've always got them waiting for me, right?"

Tears in her grey-blue eyes, she pulled me into a tight embrace. "Yes," she sighed in my hair. "But you have to know that it wasn't your fault their dead." She shook me, gently but firmly. "You understand that, don't you?"

In truth, I would always see it as partially my fault. How could I not? If I had spoken up about Reed's actions earlier, I could have gotten a restraining order put against him. Our family might have moved somewhere else. Yes, I didn't kill them, or assist in doing so in whatever associate form I used to imagine. But I did nothing to save them, either, and that was just as bad.

So I nodded once, shortly, but didn't return her relieved smile as we trudged back through the drizzling rain to the car.

Slipping into the passenger's seat and shutting the door soundly behind me, I thought, _Goodbye, Mom. Bye, Eric. Bye, Dad. I love you so much, and I'll try to make you all proud from now on. So long as I can help it, you'll never be ashamed of or disappointed in me again._

The next Monday at school was my first 'take nothing for granted' trial period. I hadn't been spending enough time with Alice, that was for sure. She was my best friend, and yet throughout this hell of an experience, I'd treated her like crap. And my new acquaintances at school could be potential friends. Death was not something that could never happen to me, as I now realized. It could happen to me when I was one hundred years old, or it could happen tomorrow.

_When will it happen?_ wasn't the question. The real trouble was, _Will I die happily, peacefully, knowing I'd done everything I could the right way, or will I be scared and regretful because of missed opportunities?_

If I were to look at my life and the way I was living it now, I would definitely have to say that the answer to the second question was 'scared and regretful.' What had I done in my fifteen years that was worth living for? I loved my family, I got good grades in school, I had a best friend and several not-so-close friends... what good was any of that? I had done nothing that I could sit back and reminice on when I was eighty and dying of Alzheimer's and say_, I'm so glad I had the guts to do that, look where it led me_...

And I had to change that. Starting now.

Walking into school off the bus, it seemed Alice knew that I had completely altered my perspective on life. I had actually tried to do look nice with my outfit of the day, which was a switch, and I was sure my fierce determination was showing on my expression ferociously.

"All right, I give up," Alice said as we stopped outside the school's front doors, waiting for the bell to ring to make us go inside to our lockers. "Who are you and what have you done with the real Bella?"

I threw a skeptical glance at her and resumed folding my earphones around my iPod, stowing it in my bag.

"You know as well as I do that I'm the same person," I said. Then I sighed, and looked her in the eye, realizing as I did so that it was the first time I'd done that to anyone in almost a month. "I went to their graves," I admitted. Alice's face went blank, and I knew it was because she didn't know how she was supposed to act yet. "I think it helped me a lot."

Her brow cleared, and she chanced a tentative smile. I hated that she was so nervous around me. Had I been such a reserved freak after the fact that she couldn't say what was on her mind to me?

_Yes._

"You said goodbye to them?" she prodded hopefully.

I shook my head quickly, narrowing my eyes in shock. "I will never say goodbye to them. If I ever do, it'll only be temporary. No, I said that they wouldn't have to be ashamed of me for hiding anymore."

"Bella, no one's a—" Alice started to protest heatedly. I covered her mouth with my hand, hearing people approach us from behind but not caring.

"I won't hide from my choices and mistakes anymore," I said softly but firmly. "What's done is done, I can only hope to make the best of my situation."

"That's the spirit!" That was Emmett's voice. I turned to see his huge self right behind me, partially obscuring Edward and Rosalie, his usual flunkies. They smiled at me, too, though not as exuberantly as Emmett. He was such a kid sometimes.

"I'm proud of you, Bella," said Rosalie, resting her hand on my shoulder lightly for a moment.

"We _all_ are," Edward corrected easily. "I can't even begin to understand what you're going through, but I'm proud of you for trying to make an exit for yourself. And we're all here for you whenever you need it."

"Thanks," I mumbled, completely embarrassed. Who knew a kid could get so interested in your life in about two conversations?

* * *

**Edward's POV**

Band class was the same as usual. Mr. Gregory didn't pay a cent of attention to the ones that didn't want to play, and today that included me. Alice and Bella and I sat at a table that was obviously meant for a classroom—what it was doing in the bandroom I'll never know—playing stupid games and talking.

Bella turned out to be a lot more interesting than I would have first thought. Then again, considering how she'd first arrived, she'd improved remarkably well. But she still hadn't told any of us what made her so upset. I just assumed the worst of things, or what I thought had to be the worst of things, and that she'd been raped or something.

And as much as I was dying to know what her past held, I wasn't rude enough to ask. She told me that she didn't want it going around the whole school because she didn't want sympathy. And while I would never dream of telling anyone, especially if she didn't want me to, I couldn't promise that I wouldn't pity her after hearing her story. So I totally understood where she was coming from with the silence treatment.

"So, Bella," Alice said, cheerful since Bella was. Her entire mood seemed to be dependent on Bella's, and vice versa. If one of them was unhappy, the other was unhappy. If one was delighted, the other was too. It was almost weird, and yet completely natural for them. "Since you're starting to feel better, I was wondering about going out to see a movie sometime. Maybe this Friday?"

For some reason, Bella paled at this simple question. She froze up like a frightened animal, uncomprehending and bewildered. Alice seemed to realize she'd made a sort of mistake, though I saw nothing wrong with her statement.

"Oh, Bella, I'm so sorry," she said in an excited rush. "Of course I should never have brought up movies, it would remind you of that night. God, I'm always saying the wrong thing."

"Alice, Alice," Bella said, her voice growing stronger with each word. The color was returning to her face, but she seemed to have had a shock, because she unconsciously put a hand up to cup the base of her throat. "It's all right. I'm the one that should be sorry. I don't know why I reacted that way."

I sat as quietly as I could, hoping that they would get caught up in their conversation, so much so that they would forget my presence and I could learn more about this 'tramautic experience.'

Unfortunately, Bella rarely ever seemed to forget where she was. She cleared her throat ostentatiously, and turned to me with a false smile.

"If I go on Friday, you and your friends should definitely come, too."

For some reason, I was extremely eager to go. I didn't know why, but I was suddenly desperate to find out what had happened to this girl. I was never a busybody, and I hated people that pried into others' business—_Jessica Stanley—_but I knew that I was becoming just like them. I wanted to know more about this weird girl from a place no fool would leave.

"Sure thing. I'll talk to the others about it."

Later that day, watching from Emmett's computer desk as Jazz and Em played Guitar Hero, I said, to no one in particular, "So, what's the deal with the Swan girl?"

Not removing his eyes from the screen, Jasper shrugged. "Alice just told me that she had been through something no person could ever even imagine. She wouldn't tell me much more than that, though. I know Bella's living with her aunt and uncle now."

"Oh, been getting close to Alice Brandon, are we?" Emmett teased, pausing the game and throwing his fake guitar strap back over his shoulder, setting the tiny plastic thing on his bed and sitting down beside it, wiggling his eyebrows at Jasper.

I was about to back Jasper up and say that he never liked any girls really, because he was just picky like that, when Jasper actually _blushed_.

Well, it wasn't really a blush. It was more like a faint tint across his tanned cheeks, but still, there was some meaning there. I was instantly switched to Emmett's side.

"Oh, man, Jazz, you actually like the _pixie_?" I asked, laughing. "She's cute and all, but she's so... hyper. I get a headache just watching her sometimes."

"Yeah, we all know how much you prefer the shy, laidback kinda girls like Bella Swan," Jasper snapped.

I stared, unable to think of anything to say except to stammer, "Wh-What are you talking about?"

Emmett laughed delightedly. "I never thought I'd see the day when my two buddies, the pickiest dudes on God's green Earth, actually _blushed_ over girls. Where's my camera? This is _better_ than a Kodak moment."

He made a great show of shuffling things around on his bed, pretending to look for the camera we all knew was in the living room. Jasper threw a pillow at him, sighing, "Knock it off, asshole."

"Ooh, feisty," Emmett chuckled, catching the pillow before it could do any damage. "I think I'm right here. How could I have not seen it before? You're always spending time with Alice these days."

"I am not!"

"So are." Emmett shook his head and looked up at the ceiling as though to ask God Himself, _Does he really think I'm _that _stupid?_ And then, almost painfully, the subject turned back to me.

"Well, what about Edward?" Jasper said in self-defense. Fucking traitor. I'd have to remember to kick his ass for using me as a shield. I'd never hear the end of Emmett's jokes. "He's always talking about Bella Swan now, ever since she came. 'What do you think happened to her?' 'Why is she so quiet?'"

His imitations of my voice were horrible, but they had Emmett in tears, he was laughing so hard.

"Oh, man, you're right! I can't believe I didn't notice that either." He looked at me squarely, pushing his lips into a firm line to make himself look serious. "Edward, it's time you and I discussed these things properly. You see, when a man loves a woman, a deep, powerful urge sweeps over him—but you must always remember to be saf—"

"Shut up!"

Catching him off guard with my speed, I knocked him off the bed with his own kidnapped pillow.

Hair sticking up and around in horrible disarray, eyes glinting wickedly, his head popped back up on the other side of the bed. "You asked for it."

I grabbed the nearest pillow and held it up in front of my head to protect myself, while Emmett assaulted me with the one I'd just knocked him down with. Jasper, laughing, took up my defense with another pillow, hitting Emmett on the head so hard I thought I could hear his little brain rattle.

As though he could hear my thoughts, Emmett turned back to me and caught me off guard, slamming the pillow right into my back and knocking me forward onto Jasper. Laughing, I swung the pillow I held back to my left with all the force I could muster at my awkward position, and nailed Emmett's left side, pushing him off the bed once again.

This time, though, he took us both down with him. In the haste of scrambling to stay on the bed and failing, I'd lost my pillow. Emmett had too, but Jasper tossed his away to keep the fight fair. Needless to say, there was still a fight.

Emmett immediately decided to go for me again, seeing as I was the smallest out of the three. He had me pinned a few seconds, the smug bastard, but Jasper grabbed his middle and threw him backward onto the floor. I leaped up and, pushing Jasper off Emmett, went to pin down Em's arms. Jasper, frustrated that I'd brushed him aside so easily, knocked into my side, slapping my back against the computer desk behind us.

"Boys!" Emmett's freaking chill mom called upstairs. I could already hear a smile in her voice. "If you're wrestling up there like I know you are, knock it off or no dessert!"

"Mom!" Emmett said, whining like a two-year-old.

* * *

**Bella's POV**

Friday seemed to come much faster than I thought it would. My reaction to Alice's question was ludicrous. She was only asking if I would go to see a movie. Why did that have to remind me of the last time I felt like a normal teenage girl?

Taking a deep breath, I examined the three outfits Alice had left out on my bed and made me promise to wear. I decided to go for the most conservative of the outfits: dark skinny jeans, black-button up peacoat, black soft boots, gray mittons, white knitted beret, topped off with a pink scarf. Where the pink came in, I had no idea, but I decided I didn't look that bad.

Alice made me _swear_ that I would try with my makeup. Unfortunately for her, she never specified _how_ to try, or how far to go. So I put on some light mascara, with barely any eyeliner behind that on my upper lids the way Alice had taught me—it seemed luck was on my side, I only stabbed myself in the eye once—and some light lip gloss. I pulled my bangs back at the top for a sort of half-pony tail.

By about the time I was done, Aunt Chris was calling up the stairs, "Bella! Alice is here!"

"I'm coming!" I called back.

I sighed, taking one last look at myself in the mirror. I would never let them go, they would always be in my thoughts and prayers, but I could let go of the stress and guilt and have fun for once in my life. I might never have a second chance.

When Alice's mother pulled up outside the movie theater with me and Alice in the backseat, she turned around and gave me an awkwardly positioned but meaningful hug nonetheless over the console.

"Thanks, Mrs. Brandon," I said, pulling away.

Outside, waiting in the growing darkness under the lighted arch of the theater, Edward, Rosalie, Emmett and the others stood. Jessica, Mike, and her whole posse seemed very annoyed by our tardiness thanks to me, but the others just looked happy we showed up at all.

"I'm glad you could make it, Bella," Rosalie said strongly, smiling at me a little awkwardly nonetheless. We hadn't been the best of friends up until then, but that could easily be rectified.

"Hey, Edward," I greeted lamely, while the others started to unconsciously pair up.

Emmett, who had appeared from day one to be interested in Rose, started talking animatedly with her about some pillow fight gone wrestling match that he'd had earlier. Jasper immediately started talking to Alice, and I was surprised at how happy and carefree Alice looked around him. She hadn't been that laidback around anyone, not even me, since the incident. Jessica was, of course, trying to steal Mike's attention and Lauren and the others were all talking amongst themselves, leaving Edward and me behind, the only ones without a real romantic interest.

I hoped.

"Hey," he said, and then he smiled that heart-wrenching crooked smile that put me completely at ease. "I'm glad you came."

The words were simple, shockingly so, only because they made my heart speed up. Maybe it was because of the intensity he said them with... Whatever the case, this boy made me too nervous to be around. I knew what those fluttery feelings meant, and if I hung around him much longer, I'd have a full-out crush on him. I could move on and try and get a life for myself, yes, but having a crush or boyfriend? Not yet.

I nodded awkwardly, not knowing what else to do.

Being the gentleman, he tried to pay for my ticket, but I wouldn't let him. Alice and I were the ones who invited everyone out. We would all pay for ourselves. If anything, Alice and I should have payed for everyone. But that was ridiculous.

And then things got awkward. We had gone to see Hitch, and it was hilarious and entertaining... to me. The others seemed to find other things worth distractions. Emmett and Rosalie, taking not just me by surprise, actually started making out right there in the theater. Everyone else just broke up and started whispering to each other, ignoring the movie altogether. We had the theater to ourselves, seeing as we were seeing a movie that had come out nearly three weeks before, and no one seemed to care they were missing a good movie.

I slouched lower in my chair, becoming hyper-aware of Edward's presence to my left. But, to my mixed disappointed and relief, he didn't do or say anything that would suggest anything other than hopeful friendship. He paid perfect attention to the movie, and only whispered to me assumptions of the movie's ending, which, needless to say, were all correct. Of course, the movie was predictable, but still.

Why did I feel like such an idiot for half-hoping something would have happened?

On the way out of the theater, Alice noticed my suddenly grumpy mood.

"Excuse us for a sec, guys," she laughed, grabbing me by the crook of my elbow. "We ladies just need to powder our noses and all that."

She dragged me into the nearest ladies restroom before I could protest, and put her hands on her teeny hips.

"All right, what's wrong?" she demanded, no preliminaries. "You looked like you were semi-enjoying yourself until we came out of the movie. Now you're back to being moody and reserved. And don't think I'm the only one that's noticed. Edward keeps asking me if he said or did something wrong, and it's really starting to tick me off. So if you could just be a nice best friend and be-_have_ for the rest of evening, maybe he would leave me alone."

I blinked. "Edward was asking about me?"

She rolled her eyes, apparently at my own naivety. "Of course. Why do you think he even came tonight? To talk to you. To get to know you. I swear, if I didn't know his intentions were pure, I'd almost think he another—"

She broke off quickly, glancing at me in alarm. I nodded to show that I was fine, but in truth just the reminder of James' existence set me on edge. I tried to focus on everything else she said to get my mind off him. He'd been put away, anyway. He could never hurt me again.

What did she mean 'pure intentions'? Was that some stupid code for 'he's just not that into you' or something? Was he asking about me out of friendly curiosity, or something more? God, when did I become so hopelessly tangled like this?

I groaned out loud. "Sorry, Alice. I'll behave. Promise."

She glared at me for a moment longer, apparently sizing up my honesty. Then she beamed and relaxed. "Then let's go. Jazz wants to go check out this new park down the road from here, and our families don't have to know we weren't at the movies the whole time."

"Alice..."

"Don't start, Bella. You said you wanted to have fun, right? _This will be fun._ But only if you let it. Besides," she inserted slyly, "Edward's coming."

"Oh, by all means, I have to come now," I said sarcastically, but I really was more eager to go knowing that he would be there. I really hated myself sometimes.

Looping her arm through mine, we walked back out to the lobby to find the others already outside.

"Thanks for waiting," Alice playfully grumbled, nudging Jasper in his side. I was shocked at her blatant flirting, and yet I wasn't. I was only surprised it was _Jasper_ she was going after. The calm, silent types weren't usually the ones she went after. She liked guys that could keep up with her peppiness. But whatever floated her boat...

We walked through the small alley between a restaurant and the movie theater, heading towards this new park. I knew it was either going to turn into a huge makeout thing for the others, or, for Alice and me, a good chance to just hang out and have some innocent fun. Emphasis on innocent.

While Jessica, Lauren, Mike, and Tyler trudged off for the picnic tables across the small field, Emmett tugged Rosalie over to the swings. I rolled my eyes, but was happy because they were all happy. Even Alice looked like she was on cloud nine, just talking to Jasper while they sat on the edge of the sandbox.

And then there was awkwardness again between me and Edward. He stood next to me uncertainly, his hands deep in his pockets like he didn't trust them out in the open. Without a spoken word or gesture, we both walked simultaneously, somehow knowing without realizing it that we were just going to walk around aimlessly.

We were silent for a long time, and I could feel my face heating up from my embarrassment. Why couldn't I think of anything to say?

Edward misread my silence as one of irritation or disappointment. He sighed, looking a little impatient in the darkness. It had to be close to ten o'clock.

"Look, Bella, I don't know if I did or said something to make you mad, but I swear—"

I grinned. Alice had been telling the truth. I shook my head at him, not bothering to hide my smile.

"You didn't do anything," I assured him. "It was me. It still is me. I just... I have issues that I'm working through."

"Would it help to talk about it?" he offered, and I could tell through his nonchalance that he was genuinely curious. I bit my lip, considering. I could really use a friend, and he seemed like a nice guy. Maybe he could be even more to me, someday...

"Only if you swear not to think of me differently after I tell you," I said. He nodded earnestly. I sighed, not knowing where to even begin. So I stuck to bald facts. "You know I used to live in Virginia Beach. Well, while I went to school there this year, a teacher... a psycho guy just became totally obsessed with me. I never learned all the facts and everything of that obsession from the police because it just was just too much as it was, but he was deranged. Anyway, when I finally told on him, he was fired, and I got a restraining order on him. That only pissed him off, I suppose. He..." I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. Reliving this experience was just like my nightmares: alarmingly realistic. I felt like I was back there again. "I was at the movies with Alice one Friday night during Christmas break." I laughed once, bitterly. "It was the first Friday of the break, actually. I never even got to Christmas. Anyway, while I was out, he came to my house looking for me. When I wasn't there, he blew up. He... he killed my family. He took my father by surprise, so at least his was easiest. He even killed my younger brother, Eric. What's the sense in that?" I knew I was starting to lose my objectivity, so I inhaled deeply began again. "My mother he saved for last. I never asked for the details, but from actual experience I knew that she ran into Eric's room after he was killed, begging and pleading and screaming for him to stop. He just kept saying, 'Where is she? I know you know where she is, you're her mother! She belongs to me!' ...He killed her, the same way he killed the others. He stabbed them in the stomach with this huge knife repeatedly, until they died."

I trailed off, licking my lips and looking away, fighting back the tears that were threatening to overflow. Edward stayed silent for a long time, digesting all of it, and we continued walking.

Finally, he spoke in a low, horribly awed voice. "Damn, Bella, I just thought..." He shook his head, laughing bitterly once as he raked a hand through his hair. "I don't know, I guess that you were raped or something. Not anything as horrible as all that." He paused. "But I don't understand something."

"What?"

"What did you mean by 'actual experience' when you said you knew what happened to your mother?"

I shut my eyes tightly for a moment. I couldn't believe I'd let that part slip.

"Well, I said I'd been at the movies at the time he snuck in," I said, struggling to make my voice emotionless. "I came home while he was still there. My brother and father were already dead. He had my mother up in her room. I..." A tear fell, quickly followed by another, and my voice broke. "I tripped over a bat coming into my room, and thought Eric had left it there as one of his pranks. Even when he was dead, I was so mean to him... Now I see that was probably from where he'd been trying to protect himself..."

I started shaking from the effort to stave off my tears. Why couldn't I have _one_ evening that I didn't spoil with my depressions?

"I had to hide under his bed while Mr. Reed killed my mother. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't call for help, I couldn't jump out and strangle him. I couldn't even scream. I just _laid there and watched_."

It was no use. I broke down sobbing. Completely catching me off guard, I felt Edward's warm arms come around my sides, pressing me into his chest. Even more surprising was the fact that the innocent hug was deeply desired. I never wanted to let him go. It was like he took the pain right out of me, taking it into himself instead.

He let me cry on him for however long we stood there, just silently stroking my hair and waiting for me to calm down.

Pushing away from him, I rubbed my eyes and said, sniffling, "I'm sorry. I knew I shouldn't have come out here."

"No, I'm glad you did."

I scoffed. I might have been deceived by a stalker teacher into thinking he was just weird but harmless, but I wasn't completely stupid.

"I am," he insisted. "I've always wondered what made you look so sad all the time." He smiled crookedly. "And I thought I was proud of you for wanting to come out of your shell at school, before I knew anything." Any sign of amusement or playfulness faded from his face, and he looked me steadily in the eye. "You've got to be the strongest girl I know, Bella. I know if I were in your position, I'd want to just crawl up in my own bed and stay there for the rest of my life. If I didn't already kill myself, of course." His tone went back to teasing. "And now you have no choice. You _can't_ kill yourself because that would kill our Biology grade."

And then the oddest thing happened. The total absurdity of our entire conversation, all the pain and angst I'd been through in the last few weeks, it all added up and exploded out of me at that simple, totally un-funny statement in laughter. I laughed so hard my sides hurt. What the hell was wrong with me?

Edward waited a moment, watching me like he worried I'd gone crazy, but then he laughed, too, just because I was. Laughter was contagious like that, and it felt so much better than crying or doing nothing.

And it was a strange bonding experience, but from that moment on, Edward Cullen became my second best friend.

* * *

**Sorry for ending it there, I'm exhausted. It's one thirty in the morning! Anyway, please review. If anyone has any ideas, constructive criticisms, compliments, fluffy ideas, I'd love to hear them!**


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